


on suspicion of injuries hidden

by mikimi (nauticalwarrior)



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, there's some implied spock/kirk but could easily be friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 23:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15448686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalwarrior/pseuds/mikimi
Summary: After an away mission, Spock suspects that Kirk may be hiding an injury.





	on suspicion of injuries hidden

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the lovely kaylee over at http://joannamccoy.co.vu/ !
> 
> you can find me here on tumblr: http://salaslander.tumblr.com/

Spock would like to be able to say that his deduction is illogical, but that would be factually inaccurate, even foolish. Still. It would be apt of him to approach this situation with some caution, some attempt at tact. Both of which he is perfectly capable of.

The captain is sitting in his chair (of course), legs spread and back resting against the chair fully, a picture of relaxation. There is no need for him to be stressed; after all, they did just complete their mission without any casualties or damage to the crew or ship. It wasn’t easy, not with the vigor with which the inhabitants of Veraya II pursued them and the prime directive preventing them from utilizing their phasers. All in all, the conclusion to the mission that they eventually achieved was highly unlikely. For there to be no injuries, even with 20 or so of the native species’ most adept warriors (or so it seemed to be) chasing after them with poisoned swords and flaming arrows, was a near impossibility. In fact, Spock is convinced it did not occur at all.

He glances over to his captain again, attempting not to make his gaze obvious to the man. A thin sheen of sweat has gathered on Kirk’s upper lip and brow, pearlescent beads shining in the light of the bridge. Spock drags his eyes over Kirk’s torso, his legs, his limbs. The captain has changed clothing since the altercation an hour ago, so it’s unlikely that damage to his attire would reveal an injury. His clothes originally had been covered in deep red blood, but that had been the color of the locals’ bodily fluids as well. With the information given, Spock has very little to support his theory.

He remembers, though, that of their away party, Kirk was the only one to be separated for any length of time. A distraction, the captain had called it, when he stopped running in the middle of their escape and shouted to Spock, Sulu, and Emerson (an ensign who had been unlucky enough to get sent down on his first away mission and have it turn out like  _ that _ ) to go without him, that he’d catch up. Spock has kept running, because even though the odds of the captain being able to catch up were slim, the odds of him being able to help were slimmer. 

However unlikely, the captain had managed to fell a dying tree in the forest they were being pursued through, effectively crushing a fair number of the planet’s inhabitants and startling the rest enough for the crew and captain alike to get to safety and out of tree cover, able to be safely beamed up. McCoy had met them at the transporter pad.

Spock remembers the CMO running each of them up and down with the tricorder-- except for Kirk, who’d dashed off with the excuse of needing to check in with engineering. It wasn’t unusual for Kirk to avoid medical care at any cost, of course, and as he had seemed neither in pain nor otherwise impaired, McCoy had just sighed and muttered something about getting the captain to rest later. The away team (minus Kirk) all came away tired but fine, and McCoy told them to get some rest tonight and they’d be good as new. He, too, seemed to have noticed the danger in this particular mission, even before the away team had realized the unique trees in the area blocked the transporter signal. 

So, Spock is not  _ worried _ about the captain, but he is aware of the high likelihood the captain is concealing an injury. It’d be obvious to anyone else, should they stop to think about it. Spock does not have the appropriate evidence to suspect any particular injury, but the captain is beginning to show signs of fatigue at the very least. Spock can see quite clearly as the captain shifts his weight to lean more on his right arm as if trying to take the pressure off of his left side, or possibly leg. The captain’s breath also appears to be coming faster than previously, and louder, as Spock realizes. He can hear it just fine from his seat. 

Spock stands, posture stiff and prim, and approaches the captain. Kirk looks up at him, brow creasing the slightest bit. 

“Mr. Spock? Do you need something?” Kirk seems to be trying to keep his voice level, Spock notes.

“Yes, Captain,” he says, “I would like it if you would accompany me on a short walk. There is something I wish to discuss with you.” 

Spock can see the suspicion on Kirk’s face. “Sure,” Kirk says anyway, standing up with some effort.  Spock pretends not to notice, turning on his heels and allowing Kirk to follow him. 

The doors out of the bridge and into the lift swish softly, and Kirk steps in with him.

“Sickbay.” Spock ignores the way Kirk jumps slightly, stares at him. 

“Is someone hurt?” The captain appears agitated, more than before.

“You are,” Spock replies, watching the captain as he stands, subtly pressed to the walls of the turbolift. “When you felled the tree, I presume?” 

Kirk gapes at him. “What? I’m not hurt, Spock.” His posture says different, though, and Spock raises an eyebrow as the lift doors open. 

“I think it would be prudent to let Dr. McCoy decide that.” Spock starts to move out of the lift, but he notices that the captain does not seem inclined to do the same. He stares at Kirk for a long moment before grabbing the man’s right arm and pulling him out of the lift himself, ignoring the slight wince that flashes across Kirk’s face.

“I don’t want to go to the sickbay!” Kirk shakes him off as the lift doors close softly behind them. “Dammit Spock, mind your own business.”

Spock sighs, exaggeratedly loud for Kirk’s sake. “Captain. If you are hiding an injury, it will negatively impact your ability to function as the captain of this starship. It is illogical for you to avoid treatment.” 

Kirk groans, leaning against the wall next to the turbolift doors. His head rests against the wall’s surface, and Spock sees some faint bruising on the underside of the captain’s jaw, barely even there. 

“Fine, you win. Go get Bones.” Kirk waves his right hand at Spock, frustration painting his features. Spock suspects that if he were to leave and go fetch the doctor physically, Kirk would likely flee, so Spock turns to face towards the interior of the sickbay as much as he can without losing visuals on Kirk. 

“Dr. McCoy,” he shouts, as loud as he ever does. “The Captain requires medical assistance.” Spock hears a clatter from the back of the sickbay almost immediately, followed by a curse he cannot quite make out. 

“What a surprise!” McCoy bursts out of the back room, looking exhausted. Since Spock is unaware of any injuries or illness at the time, it is logical to assume that the doctor was completing organizational tasks or paperwork.

“Bones, please-”

“No!” Mccoy pushes past Spock, holding the tricorder in his hand up to Kirk without hesitation. “After running away from me on the transporter pad, I should have hunted your ass down!” The tricorder passes over Kirk’s chest, and McCoy stops talking, his mouth pressing into a grim line. He turns to Spock. 

“Help me carry him to a biobed. There’s no way this idiot is walking.” McCoy shoves the tricorder into a pocket, and as he starts to lift Kirk’s shoulders, Spock steps forward to take his legs. Kirk does not feel particularly heavy, about average for a human his age, and it isn’t difficult for Spock and the doctor to lift him and move him to the nearest bed. Kirk groans when they set him down, turning to curl around the left side of his chest protectively. McCoy grabs his right shoulder, stopping him. 

“Oh, don’t you dare,” he says, growling. “You’re lucky you’re still conscious. Or unlucky, I guess. Your broken ribs are about a hair away from puncturing your lung, and I do  _ not  _ want to have to deal with respiratory arrest on top of the internal bleeding.” McCoy runs a hand through his hair. “Spock, don’t let him move. I’m going to get some equipment.” With that, McCoy ducks over to a nearby cabinet, gathering medical implements. 

Spock turns back towards Kirk. “How did you come about this particular injury?” He asks, knowing full well how the captain acquired his broken ribs.

“I'm sure you've figured it out by now,” Kirk says, waving his right hand around in annoyance. “But I was on that tree, when I knocked it over.” 

Spock nods. “That action was incredibly risky. It was impossible for you to not incur some sort of injury, and you are quite lucky given--”

“Spock, I know.” Kirk sighs, his eyes slipping shut. He doesn't appear to be unconscious; rather, he is in great pain.

With perfect timing, McCoy sinks the end of a hypo into the captain's neck, earning a flinch from Kirk and no reaction from Spock. The doctor straightens up, holding an instrument over Kirk’s chest.

“Now, this is still gonna hurt like a bitch, so if you want I can use a sedative.” McCoy turns a dial on the metal wand, moving it slightly to his left. 

“No sedatives,” Kirk grunts, his eyes squeezing tighter, like he's bracing himself.

“Great.” The doctor's voice holds no shortage of sarcasm as he flips a switch. “You may need to hold him down, Spock.”

Spock has only the amount of time he needs to process that before Kirk  _ screams, _ jerking forward an inch before Spock stops him. Spock’s tempted to use a nerve pinch, knock the captain out, but he suspects it would not be appreciated. Instead, he holds him firmly as McCoy runs the wand over Kirk's entire chest, spending more time on the left side. Kirk whimpers, shaking under Spock's grip.

Finally, after what is only one minute and twenty-five seconds (but must feel like a year to the captain), McCoy flips the switch back into the off position, and Kirk goes limp against the biobed, his shirt drenched with sweat. Spock notices a spot of blood by his mouth and leans forward an inch, examining it closer. Kirk has bitten into his lip, a bead of red gathering on the lower edge. Spock sighs so quietly he is certain no human could have heard and straightens up. 

“Doctor, is more medical treatment required?” Spock asks, because he would like to know.

McCoy shakes his head. “Nah, I used the heavy duty tool on 'im to save the pain from using several. I've gotta keep an eye on him for a while though, make sure he stays stable.” 

Spock notices the purpling under McCoy's eyes, the sweat on his brow. “Would the observation be able to be carried out by one not trained in medicine?” 

McCoy blinks. “Sure, yeah, if you can find someone.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Jim doesn't really like having other medical staff on him.”

“I could watch him. You are tired. It is only logical that you rest and I ensure the captain's stability, for the time being.” 

McCoy pauses, before a wry smile spreads across his face. “Thanks, Spock. I'm gonna go catch up on sleep.” He walks out of the medbay, past Spock. 

Spock turns back to the captain's now sleeping form. He must have slipped into unconsciousness at some point after the treatment. It’s logical that he would be tired after such an ordeal.

There is no logical reason why Spock brushes Kirk's hair out of his face, no explanation for why he lets his fingers linger on Kirk's cheek.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! please feel free to leave any comments/criticism you may have and have a lovely day!
> 
> (also, i take commissions if you need more content~!)


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